


A Connection

by TheBeeThatHums



Series: Avengers One Shots [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brother!Tony, Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Stark!Reader, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is trying so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeeThatHums/pseuds/TheBeeThatHums
Summary: Steve is unsure how to address his growing feelings for you until an opportunity to connect with you over food presents itself.





	A Connection

Captain America was stumped, looking out over what used to be an enemy base as the Shield helicopter that came to retrieve him lifted into the air. With the mission accomplished he no longer had something to occupy his mind to keep it away from his troubling thoughts. His problem was simply this- Steve didn’t know how to connect to you even though he desperately wanted to.

As Tony’s kid sister you were incredibly smart, a little cocky, and absolutely terrifying to Steve. It hadn’t been a problem when you were just friends, you were a fantastic friend and surprisingly way more patient and understanding than Tony, but recently he’d began to feel more for you. It made him unable to approach you, or do really anything involving you, and luckily he’d been sent away on a mission before you could notice. He looked out the window of the helicopter with a sigh, he’d be home by morning and he needed to figure out something soon.

Back at Stark Tower, you sighed heavily. You missed Steve. You knew he would be back before you knew it and when he did get back you still had to work on your newest assignment from Fury but you couldn’t help but count the passing of the painfully slow minutes. You decided to call it a night, giving a little wave to your brother and Bruce as you trudged off to bed.

Cap was back the next morning, which meant pancakes, eggs, and bacon for breakfast, a proper American affair. You stumbled in wearing pajamas with a robe thrown over, your hair sticking out all over the place.

Steve was only a little surprised since Tony often came in looking similarly and you were related after all, “Good morning (F/n) can I make you a plate?”

He, Tony, and Bruce watched you rub the sleep from your eyes with a tiny yawn, “Sorry Steve but no. I’ve gotta eat and run.”

You’d overslept, the result of staying up a couple of nights in a row while you were working, and really had to get back to the lab. You took two pancakes, holding one in your mouth as you put eggs and bacon on top of the other in your hand before dousing it in syrup and rolling it like a taco, using the first pancake to keep it from dripping.

You gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek, making him go bright red, “Thanks for breakfast Murica.” And then flashed them a peace sign over your shoulder as you left.

Steve stood frozen, his face permanently red, until the pancake on the griddle started smoking and Tony called, “Yo Capsicle! Your pancake’s burning.”

He quickly flipped off the stove, removing the pancake as Tony laughed and Bruce got up to put his plate in the sink, turning to give him some advice, “Steve… If you like (F/n), you should go talk to her. I think you’ll find you aren’t alone in your feelings.”

He frowned as Bruce slipped away, tugging Tony after him to the lab so they could get to work. What did he mean he wasn’t alone? Could you like him back? Maybe Bruce was right about talking to you… but how? What would he say?

After contemplating it for a good long while, he went to see what Tony had to say about the matter, he was your brother after all and a known ladies man. Steve took his lunch, a chicken pesto sandwich, with him down to the lab, hoping you wouldn’t be there or at least that he could get Tony alone. No such luck.

“Toooonnnnyyy… Pleassseee?” you whined, spinning around in your chair a few feet away from where your brother was working.

He didn’t even look up at you, “No (F/n). Go make it yourself.”

You pouted, “But I’ll mess it up… and I’m hungrryyy.”

Bruce chuckled as your brother rolled his eyes, it was no secret that you couldn’t cook to save your life. You even burned water. It was that bad. The only things that were safe were cereal and anything that required absolutely no effort from you. Tony had even seen you mess up instant noodles.

Just as you went to whine again, Steve stuck a plate with half his sandwich out to you, “Here (F/n). I’d be more than happy to share my sandwich with you. I know you guys are really busy.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, “You don’t have to do that Steve.”

Tony took the plate and shoved it in your hands, “Yes he does. Now quit whining and get back to work.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before flashing Steve a happy grin and giving him a one-armed hug, “Thanks Spangles. I really appreciate it.”

Tony poked your side with the back of his screwdriver, “Stop messing with the old man, if any more blood rushes to his face he’ll pass out. Work.”

“Why? You’re not even working.” You pointed out, smirking when he shot you a glare. It was true he was tinkering with something to procrastinate actually working on what he was supposed to be working on. Steve slunk away as the two of you argued, seeing there was no way he was going to be able to talk to Tony without you hearing.

Steve went to the gym, trying to work out his frustrations on a punching bag as he mulled over what he should do next, and didn’t leave until it was late and the sun was low in the sky, night threatening to take over. After a quick shower, he headed up to the shared floor of the tower, hoping to find someone to talk to or some way to take his mind off of things-off of you. It looked to be empty when the elevator pinged open but he soon smelled burning and heard a string of very colorful language coming from the kitchen, language foul enough to make the old fashion super soldier blush.

He peeked in just as you flopped your upper half forlornly on the counter with a loud groan, “Why? It's not like it’s rocket science… in fact, I’m good at that… No, it’s just food. So why is it so hard?”

You took the pot on the stove and shoved it in the sink with a sigh, “I guess I’ll just have cereal… again.”

This was his opportunity to talk with you, to connect, so he took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen, “Looks like you could use some help.”

You spun around to face him, a blush that could give his a run for it money creeping up your face, “S-Steve… How much of that did you hear?”

He offered you a small, shy grin, “Enough to know you could use a hand.”

You just nodded as he stepped over to the sink to look at your failed pot, “Pasta? What did you have in mind for sauce?”

Rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly, you admitted, “I hadn’t really thought that far… I figured I should focus on the pasta first.”

He chuckled, grabbing another pot and a new pack of pasta, “Come on. I’ll show you.”

You shook your head, backing away slightly, “That’s not a good idea. I’ll ruin it.”

Steve caught your hand, giving you a reassuring grin as this was an activity he could be confident in, “I promise you won’t.”

Hesitantly, you nodded and let him guide you through the steps of making not only pasta but garlic bread and a homemade tomato sauce as well. With Steve helping you it went off without a hitch and he felt himself becoming more comfortable around you as you chatted with him. It seemed in simply finding you burning pasta he’d also found a solution to his problem. Now all he had to do was talk to you about how he felt and the way you were smiling up at him made him feel at ease.

He held out a spoon for you to taste the sauce and you beamed, “It’s fantastic, Steve! You’re such a great cook.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he grinned and you hip bumped him as you chuckled, “Yes, you could have.”

He was quiet for a moment and then responded, “And if I don’t want to do it without you?”

You peered up at him curiously and he set into babbling, “What I mean to say is I enjoy cooking with you. You know like it’s fun. You really aren’t that bad at it with supervision- not that you need supervision. Just that- I just- you just- I like you.”

There was no way you could say that you weren’t enjoying seeing him flustered-you’re a Stark remember?- and when he was done you bounced up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “I got what you meant, Steve… I don’t ever want to cook without you either.”

Before he could respond, you grabbed one of the plates he made up and swished out into the other room, leaving his lips to slowly turn up in a giddy grin as he called, “You _can’t_ cook without me.”

You popped back in the doorway with a thoughtful look, “True… but I certainly don’t want to cook with anyone else.”

He beamed at you and your face twisted into a smirk as you gave him a seductive wink, “And I’ll have you know I’m pretty good at dessert.”

Giggling at the shocked look at his face, you disappeared again as he went bright red before grabbing his plate to follow you. That had gone much better than he’d expected and he couldn’t wait to see what else you could cook with his help.  
  



End file.
